The Summer of Sunshine and Margot(43)

“I’m sorry we took the job.”

“You’re sorry? I’m the one who’s going to have to figure out how we price out a butterfly enclosure.”

“You’d better talk to the bug people at UC Irvine.”

“They’re not called bug people. Someone who studies butterflies and moths is a lepidopterist. I looked it up online.”

“Good. Now you’ll sound like you know what you’re doing.” He glanced at the initialed drawing of the hiking trails. “How many times do you think they’re going to change their mind this time?”

“At least a dozen.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”



Chapter Eleven


Margot always wore her hair back in a ponytail. Alec hadn’t seen her hair any other way, which had become maddening. He tried to imagine her with her hair down and he couldn’t get the image exactly right. He wasn’t sure how long her hair would be or how soft it would look, and thinking about her and her hair was both ridiculous yet oddly soothing, assuming he ignored the inevitable ache that accompanied such thoughts.

Margot and her ponytail were beginning to drive him mad. Worse, he was starting to like it.

The afternoon of the formal dinner, he’d helped her set the dining room table. She’d placed a diagram on an easel so they could make sure everything was in the right place. From left to right, napkin, salad fork, dinner fork, service plate with a salad plate on top, dinner knife, teaspoon and soup spoon. There was a bread plate and knife, a water glass, red wineglass, white wineglass and a cup and saucer.

She’d been so intense as she’d set the table, so determined to get it all right. He knew she was doing her job, but it was more than that, he thought. She was on a mission.

Some people might think what she did was silly or without merit, but not him. He knew what it was like to toil away on the obscure when those around him didn’t get the point. She was a perfectionist but not to the point of being annoying. She was funny, too, and genuinely cared about his mother.

He liked her, he thought with surprise. And that ponytail...

Alec told himself to ignore it as best he could. He changed into a suit and was in the living room precisely at five minutes before six, just in time to see Margot walk down the stairs.

She wore a knee-length black sheath dress with a high neckline. Her makeup was light, her earrings simple silver hoops. She looked cool and elegant. Beautiful. Sexy. And her hair? Ponytail. He wondered how much effort it would take to liberate her—

He tore his mind away from the image and hoped his thoughts didn’t reveal themselves in his expression. This was a professional event. Margot was working. His inexplicable attraction was his problem.

When she reached the main floor, she crossed to him. “You look nice.”

“As do you.”

They smiled at each other. Alec wanted to say that something crackled between them, but he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t had a regular relationship with a woman since he and Zina broke up. While he wasn’t as much of a groundhog as his mother liked to say, he generally met women when he traveled on business and had brief but physically satisfying affairs. When he returned home, he was able to put his baser needs out of his mind for several months and focus on work.

It was a system that was successful. No messy emotional attachments, no risk of betrayal. But it left him woefully out of practice when it came to dealing with a woman like Margot.

“In keeping with the evening, I put a bottle of Dom Pérignon on ice,” he told her. “I hope that meets with your approval.”

She laughed. “It does. Very unnecessary, but lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Edna said there’s a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling cider for Connor, if he wants it.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him.” She pointed toward the dining room. “I want to check things one more time.”

“Because the wineglasses might have moved?”

“You never know.”

He followed her as she confirmed the table was as they’d left it. Exactly at six, his mother descended the stairs. Alec was pleased to see she wore a floral print dress with a full skirt. The neckline wasn’t too low, the skirt wasn’t too short and she seemed almost relaxed. Tension he hadn’t felt until now eased a little. In three hours, four tops, this would all be over, he told himself.

A few seconds later, the doorbell rang. Margot let in Declan, his son and a curvy, blue-eyed blonde who looked nothing like Margot. Introductions were made all around.

“Your garden is looking well,” Alec told him. “We should take a quick tour before it gets dark.”

“I’d like that. Connor, this is Mr. Mcnicol.”

“Oh, call him Alec,” Bianca said, joining them. She knelt on the floor in front of Connor. “Otherwise he gets far too pompous. And I’m Bianca. You must be Connor.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “I hope it’s all right, but I asked if I could sit next to you at dinner. I think you’re going to be the most fun person at the table.”

Connor might only be eight, but he was still male, and Bianca’s personality had felled far more experienced men. Connor nodded eagerly.

“I’d like that.”

“Excellent.” Bianca held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll go with you and your father to see the gardens. We can talk about stuff that makes us happy.”